The Matchmaker

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  Sarah reddened at his teasing. Angus ignored her discomfort as he grabbed his mug of coffee and ladled two heaped spoons of sugar into it. She passed him the biscuits hoping they hadn’t gone soft. They sat companionably down in front of the fireplace, Sarah tucking her bare feet up under her.

  ‘You said you wanted to ask me something,’ she prompted.

  ‘I was just wondering if you were around tomorrow.’

  For one crazy moment she thought that she was going to be asked out twice in the same day, but realized a few seconds later that Angus had no intentions in that direction and saw her only as a neighbour and his landlady’s daughter.

  ‘It’s just that I’m getting a new computer delivered and I wondered if you could let them in.’

  ‘Of course,’ she offered. ‘I’m not working tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ve a meeting with some of the Google guys tomorrow which I don’t really want to cancel.’

  ‘Sure.’ She smiled, knowing that Angus worshipped at the gods of the internet.

  Fumbling in his pocket he gave her the spare key. ‘You don’t have to do anything but make sure they put the box down carefully.’

  Sitting chatting with him, Sarah realized that perhaps she had also found the solution to her own problem.

  ‘Angus, are you by any chance free on Saturday night?’ He was bound to be doing something interesting or flying back home to Edinburgh to see Megan. She held her breath.

  ‘Actually, I’ve nothing on this Saturday, Sarah, so I’m all yours,’ he said, grinning at her in anticipation.

  ‘Well actually, all Evie’s!’ she fumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. ‘I’ve been invited out to dinner with friends and I’m really stuck for someone to mind her. Mum and my sisters, my normal babysitters – everyone’s tied up. I wouldn’t ask you, Angus, except that it is a sort of an emergency.’

  She could see the change of expression in his face. ‘It’s all right if you say no, Angus, honestly.’

  ‘No,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘I’m in Dublin this weekend and if it’s important for you, Saturday night is great for me. I’d be delighted to babysit for one of my favourite young ladies. What time do you want me for?’

  ‘Seven thirty, if that’s OK. Evie will be thrilled.’

  ‘I’m glad one of the Ryan young ladies appreciates my company,’ he said thoughtfully, putting down his mug.

  ‘Angus, stay!’ she found herself saying. ‘I’ll make more coffee.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve got to see a man about a banner,’ he joked, getting up to leave.

  After he was gone, Sarah reflected how much she really liked Angus; they always felt relaxed and comfortable around each other and the fact that he lived so close by and that they could help each other out was a wonderful bonus. He was great with kids and old people like Oscar, and made her smile even when she was sad. In her opinion he was the perfect man: funny and witty and able to beat her hands down on any computer game known to mankind. That Megan girl was lucky to have such a great boyfriend!

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  All Sarah’s plans for dinner with Ronan and his friends went out the window when Evie started running a high temperature on Friday night.

  She looked at the expensive conditioning treatment and decided tonight was perhaps not the night for trying to put it in her hair as Evie was demanding her full attention.

  She sat with her daughter on her lap on the couch. Evie’s face was hot and red, her eyes heavy and she was tetchy and complaining, wanting cold water and for some bizarre reason a bowl of red jelly.

  The next morning she was unable to eat even a morsel of breakfast. Evie normally bounced around the place with energy, especially on a Saturday, but today she was listless and quiet. All she wanted to do was lie in on the couch wrapped in her pink blanket and watch TV. She had no signs of a cold or runny nose and her throat looked fine and Sarah was unsure about trying to get an appointment for the doctor on Saturday morning which was usually reserved for utter emergencies.

  ‘Can I get you anything, pet?’ she offered, trying to coax her to sit up and eat.

  ‘Ribena, please, Mummy.’

  All Evie wanted was glasses of her favourite blackcurrant drink. Sarah was tempted to phone and cancel her dinner date. What kind of awful mother was she who would contemplate leaving her child when she was sick!

  Evie slept on and off all afternoon, and seemed a little better when she woke up. She nibbled a small toasted cheese sandwich for tea.

  Sarah had phoned Karen, wondering what she should do. ‘Do you think I should cancel?’

  ‘Sarah, it’s just dinner and it’s not like you’re going to be miles away,’ she reassured, ‘I’m not drinking so I can drive you home if Evie needs you.’

  Realizing the time, Sarah, in a mad panic, hopped in the shower to wash her hair and began to get ready. Maybe fate wanted her to skip dinner and stay home.

  She was still undecided and in her dressing gown when Angus arrived. ‘Evie’s sick,’ she explained, feeling guilty. ‘I can’t leave her when she’s like this. It’s not fair, maybe I should just stay in.’

  Angus said nothing and went into the sitting room and studied the patient who was watching TV. ‘I think she’ll live,’ he said solemnly, ‘but give me your mobile number in case I need it.’

  ‘Oh, thanks Angus, are you sure?’ she asked, relieved. When he assured her he was she raced off to get ready.

  In her bedroom she pulled on a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a low-neck pink shirt. Maybe it was just a bit too casual? She stared at herself in the mirror, and then raced out to him.

  ‘What do you think of this?’

  Angus was sitting near Evie, reading the sports section of the Irish Times, and looked up, a grin on his face crinkling up his eyes as he studied her. ‘You look great.’

  Sarah valued his opinion not just because he was a man, but because he was usually dead honest about everything.

  ‘Now, just wait a minute.’ She chased back into her bedroom and pulled on her slim-fitting pink-print coloured skirt, jade-green top and a low-slung leather belt.

  ‘Angus!’ she announced, twirling around. ‘Is this better?’

  She wasn’t rooting for compliments, just a bit of help about the momentous decision of what to wear. Unlike Grace and Anna she was a disaster about making her mind up about things. They both instantly knew what to wear and what clothes suited them whereas she could never decide!

  ‘You look lovely in both,’ he said diplomatically, ‘but the skirt . . .’ He was staring at her in a way that made her feel he was giving her one hundred per cent attention. ‘Wear the skirt.’

  Back in the bedroom, she put on her make-up quickly and brushed her hair, grabbing her jacket when she heard the doorbell ring. The taxi must be outside.

  She gave Evie a quick hug and a kiss and passed Angus the piece of paper with her number and the name of the restaurant. ‘Promise you’ll phone me if you need me?’

  ‘I promise,’ he swore, ‘but Evie will be fine, don’t worry.’

  Mario’s was packed, and any misgivings Sarah had were put aside when Ronan greeted her with a welcome hug and insisted she sit by him. He’d wisely booked the big round table near the front of the restaurant and Karen and Mick were already there. He introduced her to two friends of his, James and Chris, who had both been at college with him. They were all perusing the menu when his sister Mary, a pretty dark-haired girl, and her boyfriend Brendan appeared. They were a friendly group and Sarah relaxed immediately as everyone tried to make up their mind what to order. She ordered the prawns to start and then after a bit of secret deliberation the stuffed cannelloni and salad. The service was quick and smooth and everyone opted for the Italian Barolo, but Sarah decided to take it easy on the alcohol in case she had to go home quickly to Evie.

  The food was great, the conversation fun and Ronan kept everything light.

  ‘How’s your book going?’ he enquired as he tackled a massive pizza.
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  ‘Sssh, Ronan, it’s not really a book,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s just, something I’m having fun doing.’

  ‘I’d love to see it,’ he said, manoeuvring a large slice of tomato and pepperoni pizza to his mouth.

  She really couldn’t make out if he was teasing her or just found her so naive it was amusing.

  ‘Honestly, I mean it,’ he said, putting the pizza down. ‘I’m redesigning the logo and publishing catalogue for one of the biggest children’s publishers in London. The stuff they publish is just fabulous. Kids’ books are huge at the moment – well, that’s what my friend Jilly tells me, and she’s one of their top editors. If you want I could get her to take a look at yours, even a few pages. All she can do is say no!’

  ‘Do you mean it, Ronan? You’re just not stringing me along?’

  ‘No. Jilly and I are great buddies.’ He grinned, spearing some salad from the plate between them. ‘I used to go out with her brother.’

  Managing to keep a smile on her face, Sarah remained composed as she wondered had she heard correctly what he’d said. Maybe she was imagining it. ‘That would be great, Ronan, really great.’

  Her thoughts were in turmoil as the conversation around the table turned to the property market. Since she hadn’t a bean to buy a home of her own and was dependent on the benevolence of her mother for her accommodation, it was a discussion to which she could contribute little, except to state that people were mad to be paying out half a million euros or more for what was nothing more that a concrete box of an apartment in some high-rise development in the middle of nowhere with no parks or playgrounds or even a place to go for a walk. What would happen to the children and toddlers living in these places in the future!

  Karen got up to go on one of her frequent trips to the Ladies’ and Sarah excused herself and joined her.

  ‘God, I shouldn’t have had all that pasta,’ joked her friend. ‘I feel like I’m going to explode and all the Ballygowan is swishing around me like a fishbowl.’

  Sarah giggled as Karen gave a discreet belch. ‘Better!’

  ‘A bit. God, this baby is playing havoc with my digestive system. First I couldn’t look at food and now I’m starving all the time.’

  ‘Do you remember my salami cravings?’

  ‘Irish whiskey salami!’ She giggled. ‘You ate bags of the stuff. Are you glad you came out tonight?’

  ‘Yes, I’m having a great time,’ she admitted. ‘Ronan’s so nice and everyone’s such fun . . .’

  Karen stared at her in the mirror. ‘Yeah, it’s such a shame that some of the nicest guys are gay.’

  Her eyes must have given her away.

  ‘You did know, Sarah!’

  ‘Of course,’ she fibbed. ‘It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Remember I told you about him at my wedding? That he was away travelling around Fiji with some friends and couldn’t make it home? He’s such a character!’

  A character was right. She sure had her wires crossed. Was she that long out of the dating scene? Composing herself, she put on a slick of lipstick and made her way back to the table.

  It made no difference: Ronan was the best company ever and told her she was looking gorgeous when she returned to sit down beside him. He entertained them all with the trials and tribulations of designing the album cover for a new rock band. ‘They had an awful name, looked awful and to be honest the music was dire.’

  ‘What did you do?’ asked Karen and Sarah.

  ‘We rechristened them “Ice House” and put an animated version of them on the cover. Rumour is the record company got the backing singer to sing lead vocals on their first single to be released.’

  ‘And what happened?’ asked James.

  ‘The album sold well, the single got lots of plays and last I heard they’d been offered a tour in America. What’s going to happen after that when people see and hear them live, God only knows!’

  As the others began to order coffees and nightcaps she finished the end of her glass of wine and reached for her purse.

  ‘Don’t say you’re going already!’ protested Ronan.

  ‘Sorry, but with Evie sick, I have to get back home.’

  ‘When am I going to see these lovely pictures and stories of yours?’ he asked.

  ‘I could post them to you or try and scan and email them.’

  ‘Listen, I’m around all tomorrow afternoon, maybe I could call into your place to see them?’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘My flight’s not till about nine. That way you can maybe give me a few pages to show Jilly.’

  Sarah couldn’t believe his kind offer and gave him a big hug as she got up to leave.

  ‘I’m sorry about having to go home,’ she apologized to everyone.

  ‘Well, I’m worn out, so I can drop you off,’ offered Karen. ‘All I want is my bed at this stage of the night.’

  She accepted the lift as she could tell Karen really wanted to get home and put her feet up while Mick was ready to go on with Ronan and James and the others and have another few drinks. They were all up for a late night and were heading for Leeson Street.

  Sarah had really enjoyed the night out with a crowd, having a laugh and talking about grown-up things. When they reached Pleasant Square, she asked Karen if she wanted to come in for coffee.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m just too tired, Sarah, I’d only fall asleep on your couch.’

  ‘OK. Safe home,’ Sarah called, hopping out of the car.

  The living room was quiet, the TV on but muted, playing an old Alfred Hitchcock movie; Angus’s skinny frame was sprawled across her sofa. He was dozing, his hair standing on end, his laptop abandoned on the carpet.

  Evie was to her amazement fast asleep in her bedroom, her blanket gripped tight.

  ‘Hey,’ she called softly, resisting the bizarre urge to curl up on the sofa beside him.

  Angus roused himself, running his fingers through his black hair, making the tufts of it stand up even more. ‘Hey, I thought you wouldn’t be home for hours,’ he said sleepily.

  ‘I didn’t really want to leave her too long,’ she explained.

  ‘All’s been quiet on the western front, promise,’ he whispered. ‘She had a drink of Ribena and a few spoons of yogurt. I think she’s feeling a bit better now that the spots have started to come out.’

  ‘Spots!’

  ‘Probably chicken pox or one of those kinds of things.’

  ‘Oh, God, Angus, I’m so sorry for landing you with something like that! I didn’t realize she was that sick.’

  ‘She’ll be fine, Sarah. I had them when I was a kid and I’m sure the invasion of chicken pox is probably spreading as we speak!’

  Sarah thanked heaven for Angus being so calm and relaxed about something that would freak most guys out.

  ‘Anyway, how did the hot date go?’ he asked, sitting up and stretching.

  ‘Not so hot!’ she laughed. ‘It wasn’t really a date, as I found out, just dinner with friends – which was fine and a bit of fun.’

  ‘So no dancing and romancing the night away,’ he said slowly, staring at her.

  ‘No chance.’ She gulped. ‘I got it so wrong. Ronan’s a great guy but I am definitely not his type.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it just shows how crap I am,’ she admitted, ‘thinking because some guy talks to me and is nice that he likes me. No, what I meant is Ronan did like me, we’re friends but not in a physical way – he’s really great but he’s gay. And I’m such a klutz I didn’t cop on!’

  Suddenly she felt miserable. She was so stupid and pathetic. Why she was telling Angus was totally beyond her.

  He laughed, standing up and pulling her into his arms and down on to the couch. ‘Any guy who didn’t fancy you would have to be gay,’ he assured her hugging her close.

  ‘Thanks, Angus.’

  ‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘You are very fanciable. When I saw you in that skirt tonight I . . .’

&nb
sp; She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘You’re lovely, Sarah,’ he blurted out.

  Was she so drunk that she was imagining what Angus was saying to her? Or had she so many wires crossed from lack of sleep and worry about Evie that she had lost her marbles?

  Suddenly she felt his lips on hers, warm and tender, and she was kissing him back, enjoying the experience, kissing and kissing . . . mmm, it was lovely. She had forgotten what it was like to snog someone you really liked. He was holding her chin in his hands, his fingers on her neck, the kiss getting deeper and deeper, Sarah responding. She kissed his cheeks and his eyes and his neck and then his mouth all over again. He smelled lovely; his skin tasted salty and sexy. She wrapped her arms around him as he pulled her closer. A long long time later, they pulled apart.

  ‘Sarah.’

  ‘Angus.’ She giggled, it was crazy. He was her babysitter, her friend, he lived next door and he was Scottish and betrothed to the bonny Megan.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ he said huskily, tracing her lips with his finger. ‘The situation will be sorted, I promise.’

  She watched, still in a state of shock, as he got up from the couch, tucking his shirt in and reaching for his phone.

  ‘I’d better be going,’ he said, gathering his laptop from the floor. ‘I hope the patient will be a bit better tomorrow.’

  Barefoot she walked him to the door, thanking him again for babysitting Evie.

  ‘Remember to lock up when I’m gone,’ he reminded her.

  She resisted the mad impulse to ask him to stay with her as she watched him walk across the garden path and back to the mews.

  Chapter Forty

  Ronan Dempsey had been more than true to his word and had called at the flat on Sunday afternoon with a tub of honeycomb ice cream, a packet of chocolate flapjacks and a bunch of freesias. She put them in a glass jug of water, her brain still reeling, thinking about Angus and trying to cope with Evie’s horrendous outbreak of itchy spots.

  Evie, normally friendly, was embarrassed, and was literally covered in top to toe glorious chicken pox spots. They were everywhere. Her eyelids, her lips, her head and face and all over her poor itchy body, and after saying a very shy hello to Ronan she had hidden in her bedroom, eating a bowl of the cool ice-cream.